


Walking in Berlin

by TheOtherSarahJane



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Drabble, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2013-08-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 19:58:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1123789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOtherSarahJane/pseuds/TheOtherSarahJane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During an ordinary stroll through their beloved city, Germany realizes how much his brother means to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walking in Berlin

Germany and Prussia strode side by side through the streets of Berlin, the stresses of a typically unproductive world meeting fading with each scuff of the foot. People—their people—ambled and strutted and breezed by them, going about their quick lives, gone in a flash but so full of vigor and speed and life, and Germany looked down at his brother next to him and could see he was positively intoxicated by it.

It was always a rare treat for Germany to see his older brother this way. He was so accustomed to seeing him at home, sulking, or strutting about, or laughing raucously over a few beers, or just sitting around shining all his old weaponry—certainly his brother, through and through, but ever since his status as a recognized nation had been dissolved, he just didn’t have the same life to him. Except for when they were walking in Berlin. Out here, Prussia suddenly transformed. His red eyes would again be sparked with enthusiasm, his moodiness would morph into cocksure grins, and he would become that rowdy, proud old nation Germany had looked up to as a child.

And really, Germany could never stop himself from sharing in his brother’s joy. People, culture; these things were like blood and oxygen to a nation, and he enjoyed being in the thick of it. Berlin was a city that he knew meant something special to both of them, and though no maps now bore Prussia’s name, Germany knew the city would always be his, just a little. They still shared it, even if only on some distant, abstract level, just as they shared (as far as Germany was concerned) the rest of the country.

This, he realized as he looked again at the paler man next to him, was why he loved these little outings. Here was something they could enjoy together, a reminder of their long history together. It was something more complex, more involved and personal than anything he shared with any other nation. And, as much as his brother’s raucous, sometimes antagonistic ways could infuriate him to no end, a part of Germany still admired his brother. Prussia had raised him from childhood, had been a great empire once. The fact that he was still here long after most other national personifications would have faded away, Germany thought, offered undeniable proof that his brother was still much stronger than other nations gave him credit for.

They lived in the same house, shared their lives, shared a country and a people and so much history. Prussia was the closest friend he had. He loved Prussia.

The thought hit Germany hard, and he stopped in his tracks. Prussia, who had been chattering on about his latest drunken adventures with France and Spain, continued on a few paces before noticing his little brother had fallen behind, and turned around to see what was wrong.

Really, there should be no reason for that thought to be so…impactful. Of course he loved Prussia. They were brothers. It was familial, brotherly love that had simply been augmented by nostalgia and a lot of time spent together, no more, no less. There was nothing abnormal about being close to him, nor was there anything strange about wanting to be closer, as he often wished for. They were brothers.

“West? What’s wrong?”

Germany shook his head and resumed walking as normal. “Nothing,” he lied, closing the distance between them and shaking off the strange feeling that had just risen in the back of his mind.


End file.
